


Graphite

by Kar98k



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Chernobyl AU, F/M, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Steggy Week 2019, Very Heavy Angst, steggyweek2k19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-20 10:28:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19990636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kar98k/pseuds/Kar98k
Summary: Both Steve and Peggy thought his reassigment to the Fire Department of the town of Pripyat would be a new opportunity - for a better, more comfortable life - especially after their wedding.It's the night of April 26, 1986.Everything is about to change.





	Graphite

**Author's Note:**

> My late-ish entry for Steggy Week (life happened).  
> Rated M for graphic depictions of Acute Radiation Syndrome.  
> Based on the true story of Vasily and Lyudmila Ignatienko.  
> Inspired by the HBO Miniseries Chernobyl and the book Voices from Chernobyl by Svietlana Alexevich.

Peggy sighed, cringing at the sour taste she felt in her mouth. While, of course, this wasn’t the first time she had ever puked her guts out, the fact that it happened for a second night in a row was certainly a concern. The fact that Steve showed no signs of any sickness whatsoever did little to appease her - while it did mean a wholesale food poisoning wasn’t an issue, it still didn't solve the mystery of her iller-than-usual health. She sighed, moving back to her feet and exiting the bathroom, moving towards the dark kitchen.

 _Nothing a good tea can’t fix,_ she remembered the words of her mother as she moved the water-filled kettle to the stove and put the gas on. She took a deep breath again, casting a look around her, and a small smile tugged at her lips. Even though it had been a few months already, she was still slightly amazed they made it. Steve’s new assignment in the town of Pripyat just a few months after they got married didn’t make them happy at first - it was pretty far away from any major city like Kiev or Minsk, and also felt small and insignificant at first. The first impressions, however went away quickly - they had gotten their apartment at the fire brigade hotel practically immediately (with Peggy still remembering the stories of her parents needing to wait 3 years for a new flat after she was born), the shops in town were fully stocked and with basically no queues, and the pay for both him as a firefighter and her as a schoolteacher easily exceeded what they could feasibly get in Kiev, Minsk or even Moscow. Another upside was, meeting so many people of their age in the town and quickly forming new friendships that would hopefully last for a long time. As they settled in, she also started to slowly introduce the idea of starting a family to Steve; but, at least as of yet, it bore no visible fruit.

 _We have time,_ she thought as the sound for the whistling kettle pulled her out of her train of thought. She moved to turn off the gas and pour out the cup, when suddenly a bright flash of light poured through the window, before everything went dark again. Peggy froze, putting the kettle back on the stove, and she started moving towards the window. After a few seconds, she then heard a low, rumbling noise as she finally caught on to what happened.

One of the “perks” of living in the fire brigade hotel was the view - from their kitchen window they could see the entire reason for the existence of the town - the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant. From the distance, it looked unassuming - a set of concrete blocks surrounding a large, red and white chimney in the middle. It was, however, why Pripyat existed - to house the workers and their families and to provide for them everything a model citizen of the Soviet Union should need.

Right now, however, it looked different. Even from the distance Peggy could see an orange glow surrounding the power plant. After looking for a moment, she then spotted another thing - a pale, blue streak of light shining from the building right up towards the sky, like a giant searchlight illuminating the night sky. She was so absorbed and bewildered by the spectacle she didn’t even hear the padding of feet against the floorboards.

“Peggy? What…” she heard Steve as he moved towards her, falling silent as he saw what she did. They both looked, mesmerized and curious, before the shrill ring of the telephone broke the silence.

“I’ll get it,” Steve spoke as he moved, Peggy casting a glance at the clock on the kitchen table.

1:24 AM.

* * *

_[DIAL TONE]_

_"Hello, is this Military Fire Station 2?"_

_"Yes."_

_"What’s burning over there?"_

_"Explosion, explosion in the main complex, on… between blocks 3 and 4."_

_"Are there people there?"_

_"Yes!"_

_[LINE SWITCH]_

" _Wake all the commanders up!"_

_"Yes, I woke up mine."_

_"Everyone, everyone, get the whole officer's corps in here!"_

_[DIAL TONE]_

" _Leonid Alexievich?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Hello, this is Pripyat, blocks 3 and 4, the roof is on fire because of an explosion."_

_"Oh, no… did they confirm it?"_

_"No, the dispatcher in Pripyat told me there was an accident."_

_[DIAL TONE]_

" _Fire brigade."_

_"Hello, Ivankov?"_

_"Yes."_

_"So, you have to go to Pripyat, yes… hello?"_

_"Yes, I hear you."_

_"Go to the nuclear power plant, between blocks 3 and 4, the roof is on fire!"_

_[END CALL]_

* * *

Peggy felt uneasy as she watched Steve dress in his uniform. After the phone call he basically shot straight back into their bedroom, getting himself ready to leave.

“You’re not on duty today,” she pointed out as he pulled up his trousers, adjusting the suspenders. “You don’t have to go.”

“I know I’m not, but that has been overruled,” he replied. “And it seems like it’s a big one. They’re calling up everyone - us here, Ivankov, Poliskoye, even Kiev. Military, civilian, volunteer.”

“Is is dangerous, then?” she spoke again. She always knew his job would come with certain risks, but it wouldn’t hurt to hear even a little reassurance.

“No, Pegs,” he spoke, standing up as he tied his shoelaces. “They say it’s just the roof burning. It’s probably covered in tar, so it will stink like hell and burn until morning. Nothing too dangerous.”

“Is it?” she asked, her uneasiness still prevailing in her words as he pulled her into a light hug, pressing a peck into her hair. “What if there’s… chemicals?”

“Pegs…” he replied, looking right in her eyes. “It’s just a roof. It happens all the time. Why should it be different now?”

“What’s that blue light, then?”

“Searchlights, most likely,” he replied, his hand drawing little circles against her back. “I’ll be OK, alright? Nothing to be concerned about, honey.”

She sighed, pushing her head against his chest.

“Just… be careful,” she spoke as Steve pulled away and moved towards the door.

“I will. See you in the morning,” he spoke as he then left the flat, the door closing behind him. Peggy stood still for a moment before finally turning off the lights and moving back to the dark bedroom. She laid herself back down on the bed, a shiver running through her body

_ Be safe, Steve. _

The ride to the power plant was quick and uneventful. Steve relaxed into the back seat of the firetruck, observing the dark surroundings as bright blue flashes of lights and the blaring of sirens surrounded him. The other firefighters in the cab didn’t speak, focusing on preparing to fight the fire. The radio crackled to life from time to time, short messages drowned out by the siren. Soon enough, they took a turn to the final stretch towards the building. Even from the distance, Steve could see the bright glow of the fires peek out of the complex to the left of him. Soon enough, however, they reached the site. As the truck stopped, Steve let out a breath and jumped out, not even bothering to close the door behind him.

As he looked up, he froze. The reports he received told him that they were about to deal with a simple roof fire. What he saw now, however, filled him with dread. He looked up to see the massive, concrete structure of the reactor block almost completely destroyed. The roof and most of the wall he was facing didn’t seem to exist anymore, chunks of concrete and fragments of steel littering the ground. The fire raged high up, lighting up the entire site like massive bonfire. Outside of that, Steve also noticed the now familiar streak of blue light rising high up into the sky, with no searchlight in sight.

The voices of other firefighters and the sound of them running broke him out of his trance, and he moved quickly, rolling out the hose out of the truck and then grabbing the valves so that the water could flow on. As he started to fiddle with them, he licked his lips for the upteenth time now. Ever since he left the truck, he started feeling a metallic taste in his mouth. At first, he thought he had simply bit himself and tasted his own blood, but now, however, he was sure he didn’t do that and yet the taste prevailed, as if he had been sucking on an iron nail for the last few minutes.

_ Weird. _ He thought as he then heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Hey, Cap, did you see this?”

The voice belonged to Dugan - one of the firefighters he befriended after coming to Pripyat. The usually jovial and loud man now sounded confused and curious. Steve turned around, noticing he was holding a large chunk of something that looked like concrete in his hand. As he looked closer, Steve noticed it wasn’t what he thought it was. The chunk was black in color and actually seemed smooth and polished on the outside.

“What is that?” Dugan then spoke again, the voice returning Steve back to his task.

“I don’t know, Dum Dum, leave it for now,” he spoke, returning to fiddle with the valves. “Help me over here, quick. Come on!”

Dugan listened, dropping the strange chunk to the ground as he knelt beside Steve, helping him set up the equipment.

“Dugan, do you taste metal?” Steve asked, still not able to comprehend why he did.

“I do, now that you say it,” he replied, finally connecting the hose to the valves. “Go to the truck, get me some pressure, OK?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied, sprinting back to the truck to turn the water valve. He watched as the hose filled and as water shot out, Dugan aiming it at the closest pocket of flames. Steve watched as other hoses sprang to life, jets of water spraying in the direction of the blaze, dousing the flames. He watched for a while, mesmerized by the spectacle, before suddenly seeing Dugan shut off his hose and drop it on the ground. He then saw as Dugan sat down on the ground, holding his hand, his shouts of pain breaking through the background noise. Steve moved, sprinting towards him.

“Dugan, Dugan, what’s going on?” he spoke as he reached him, Dugan’s groans of pain growing louder by the second. He didn’t respond, instead trying to pull off his glove, another pained cry leaving his lips.

“Here, let me help.,” Steve said as he pulled at the material, taking it off slowly. He had to bite back a gasp as he saw Dugan’s hand - colored bright red, with skin already peeling off to reveal the muscles and cartilage underneath, looking as if he had held it over a blazing fire.

“MEDIC!” Steve shouted, suddenly spotting another firefighter sprinting towards them.

“Rogers, get on that hose! I’ll help him, you go!”

He nodded, moving towards the dropped equipment. He moved quickly, even though he was already starting to feel winded and tired. He didn’t give it much thought as he grabbed the hose again, turning the water flow on and dousing the raging flames above him. He breathed hard in and out, feeling the heat even from that big of a distance. He moved forward, looking down for a moment as he then spotted another chunk of that mysterious, black rock that burned Dugan so badly. He gulped as he moved to the side, taking a wide berth around it, mindful of other pieces of concrete littering the ground.

He lost track of time as he kept up the fight, seeing some of the blaze die down under the concentrated barrage of water. However, the entire situation seemed to be taking a massive toll to the men around him. Nearly all of them seemed exhausted and spent already - walking slowly and breathing heavily as they moved. Some of them fell to the ground, losing consciousness while others hunched down on their knees, vomiting. Steve felt it too, as if an invisible force was sapping him of all energy minute by minute. He gasped for air, feeling hot and exhausted as he moved forwards, feeling as if wading through a thick swamp.

“Move up! We have to move up!” He heard the voices of the officers, ordering the men to climb up the rubble towards a row of weird, yellow barrels covered in rubble. A part of his mind screamed for him to just turn back and run, get back to the safety of his home and his wife.

_ We have a job to do,  _ he thought, thinking of Peggy and his promise to keep her safe made years ago.  _ I must keep her safe. Us safe. _

As he climbed up the rubble, he suddenly felt his legs give out from under him. He fell back, hitting the rubble hard as he rolled down a little, stopping near another chunk of the smooth, black rock.

“Help!” he cried out, his voice weak and trembling as he felt hot darkness envelop him.

  
  


Peggy’s eyes snapped open as she woke, breathing hard. She hadn’t slept well at all, and now she was sure she just had a nightmare of sorts. Looking around she spotted two things - firstly, Steve still didn’t come back and secondly, it was daytime already. Stepping out of the bed she moved to the bathroom, feeling another wave of nausea pass through her. After another session of retching and kneeling in front of the toilet bowl, she made her way through the morning routine pretty quickly. As she exited the bathroom and dressed, she then heard the telephone ring. She moved picking up the receiver.

“Peggy Carter-Rogers, hello?”

“Hey Peggy, Natasha here.” The voice on the phone said, sounding concerned. Peggy knew who was calling - she was the fiance of Dugan, Steve’s friend from the fire brigade.

“Hello, how are you? I...” Peggy replied, her voice wobbling a little.

“Listen, is Steve back yet?” Natasha then spoke, cutting Peggy off. “Timothy is not back, I’m hearing they’ve taken them to hospital, they’ve blocked all the roads, they don’t let people in or out, do you know anything?”

“I… I don’t know… Steve isn’t back either, I…” she spoke, when suddenly the line went dead.

“Natasha…. Natasha?” Peggy spoke receiving no answer. She laid the receiver back down, taking a deep breath. In an instant, a sudden desire to act overtook her. She quickly put her shoes on and grabbed a coat, leaving the hotel to go towards the hospital. As she approached it, she already saw a group of people at the entrance, being blocked from going inside by a cordon of uniformed officers. She got closer, pushing through the angry crowd.

“Let us in!”

“What’s going on?”

“Stay back! No one comes in!”

The shouts drowned out any other noise as Peggy pushed forward.

“My husband fought the fire! I want to see him!” she shouted, the officers not moving a step back, pushing at them. Suddenly, a group of people to her right managed to go through, sprinting towards the doors. Peggy dived to the ground, managing to go under the human chain. She sprinted to the door, pushing it open and running into the corridor.

She slowed down afterwards, walking towards the main reception area. On the way, she passed dozens of people - nurses, doctors and the sick. Most of the patients sat or lay in the corridors, their faces red, shivers wracking their bodies. It was clear the hospital wasn’t coping well, but for Peggy the most important part was locating her husband. Finally she reached the reception - surprised to see a uniformed soldier sitting there instead of a doctor or a nurse.

“Excuse me,” she spoke, trying to overcome the commotion in the corridor. “my name is Peggy Carter-Rogers, my husband, Steven, is a firefighter, he went to fight the fire. Is he here?”

The man in the chair ignored her, not even looking up from his papers.

“Excuse me, sir, do you know anything?” Peggy spoke again, louder this time. It didn’t seem to have an effect at all. She could already feel anger bubbling up inside her. She moved her hand, balling it into a fist as she slammed it hard against the glass, causing the man to recoil from the desk and finally look at her.

“I need to know about my husband. Steven Carter-Rogers, firefighter. Went out last night to fight the fire at the powerplant,” she spoke, her tone icy and surprisingly calm. It seemed to have an effect as the soldier now flicked through a book, before moving back to face her.

“He’s not here anymore,” he said, and Peggy felt her heart sink.

“What do you mean? Where is he then? Why?” she asked, her voice raised and agitated.

“He’s been airlifted two hours ago. To Moscow, Hospital Number Six,” he replied, his tone formal and measured. “You can see him there.”

“How… we can’t leave the city!” she spoke, feeling herself on the verge of exploding in anger right there.

“Wait a moment,” he spoke, moving up from the chair and disappearing inside the adjacent room. He was soon back, a piece of paper in his hand.

“When you’re leaving, show this to the guard,” he said, sliding the paper to her under the glass. “If anyone asks questions, tell them you have this from Major Burov and that they can report to me with their objections. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Peggy replied, sliding the paper into her purse. “Thank you, Major.”

She reached Moscow two days later, after a long journey first to Kiev by bus and then to Moscow by train. On the way, she heard the hushed whispers - of the entirety of Pripyat being evacuated and the city being sealed off to anyone outside of the military. She didn’t really busy herself with those thoughts - of all their things left behind or of what will happen to them later - focused only on the need to see Steve was OK. Thanks to the hospitality of friends from university, she managed to find a place to stay in the capital for the time being.

It was now 4 days after Steve left into the night that she finally reached the place he was supposed to be - Hospital Number Six. As she entered the massive complex, a whirl of emotions passed through her - anxiety, fear and longing being the most prominent ones. She composed herself before moving to the reception.

“My name is Peggy Carter-Rogers. My husband, Steven, is from Pripyat, they say he was transported here,” she spoke, her tone calm and steady.

“No visitors.” The nurse behind the glass replied, not even looking at her.

Peggy sighed, tapping her fingers against the wood before reaching for her purse. She quickly pulled a few banknotes and then slipped them under the glass.

“Please. I beg you, I haven’t seen him since the day it happened.” She spoke, her voice now pained. The nurse looked at her, before sliding the money to herself.

“Room 20, 2nd Floor.” She spoke as she hid the money in the desk drawer.

“Thank you,” Peggy replied, moving to sprint up the stairs. As she found the room, she suddenly heard a voice right behind her.

“Excuse me, who are you?”

She turned around slowly, coming face to face with another nurse.

“No visitors. Didn’t they tell you at the entrance?”

Instead of answering, she reached for her purse again.

“Don’t.” The nurse then spoke, tilting her head to the side. “Family?”

“Wife,” Peggy replied, a sudden surge of emotions rolling through her.

“You have 30 minutes.” The nurse spoke again, her tone serious. “You can see him, talk to him, but you can’t touch him. Do you understand?”

Peggy nodded.

“Go. You don’t have much time.” The nurse spoke, moving away. Peggy then all but sprinted to the door, opening it.

The view she saw suddenly made her heart melt. She spotted a few of Steve’s friends, sitting on the beds playing cards. She couldn’t see his face, but she then noticed one of them sitting with his back to her, his blond hair glistening in the sunlight peeking through the window.

“Hey, Steve, look who showed up!” One of the firefighters said, Peggy’s heart suddenly filling with joy. As the man turned around her lips curved up into a full smile.

“Hello there.” She spoke, not being able to contain her excitement.

“Peggy.” Steve spoke, moving to stand up. “Sorry boys, I need a moment.”

He then moved up to her, angling to pull her into a hug. The nurse’s words echoed in Peggy’s mind, but in that split-second she made her own decision. She moved her hands up, pulling Steve into a tight hug, pressing a little kiss to his neck.

“Hi, Pegs,” he whispered. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too, Steve.” she spoke back, relieved. “How are you?”

“Not that horrible,” he spoke, pulling back. Peggy noted his skin looking blistered and reddened, but spoke nothing of it. “This will heal, or so they say.”

“It sure will, my love,” Peggy replied, her voice wobbling a little. “I’m so glad to see you, I was so afraid...”

“Hey, hey...” Steve spoke, pulling her into another hug. “I’m here, OK, I’m not going anywhere.”

She didn’t respond, focusing more on his touch and his closeness - things she so badly missed through the last few days.

_ How could I know?  _ She would later think.  _ How was I supposed to know? _

Peggy stirred awake, her muscles cramped and aching. After meeting Steve and talking to him for a good hour, she left the room to sit on a chair in the corridor. It was then that the exhaustion caught up with her, causing her to fall asleep right there. She stretched, moaning at the pain as she took in her surroundings. The corridor was empty and quiet, looking as if everyone deserted the hospital. Looking at her watch, she saw it was nighttime as it ticked to 2 AM. The silence, then, was broken by a loud scream of pain. Peggy jolted upwards, listening in from where it came from. It happened again - a long, piercing wail coming from…

Room 20.

_ Oh no.  _ Peggy thought as she raced towards the door, her heart slamming against her chest. As she opened it, her heart sank.

Steve laid in his cot, screaming and wriggling, clearly in massive pain. The two nurses around him were trying to hold him down, to no avail. Peggy noticed how Steve’s skin was now a shade of dark red - looking far worse than what she saw earlier.

“What are you doing?” Peggy shouted, running up to the bed. “Can’t you see he’s in pain?”

“You can’t be here!” One of the nurses said. “It’s too dangerous!”

“Dangerous? He’s burned, can’t you see, he’s in pain!” Peggy replied as the second nurse pushed her back.

“Leave, you can’t be here,” She spoke, her tone leaving no room for discussion as she ushered Peggy outside, slamming the door behind her. Peggy could only stand there, every scream of pain feeling like a dagger stabbing through her heart.

_ Oh Steve. _ She thought, tears welling up in her eyes.  _ Oh, my darling. _

The next few days only made things worse.

Even though Steve remained optimistic, Peggy could see from the attitude of the nurses, the fact Steve was moved to a separate room, his bed surrounded by a plastic curtain, to the way he looked that things weren’t progressing in the right direction. His skin reddened even more, turning to black in a few places. Almost all of his hair fell out, most of his blond waves reduced to a few, limp looking wisps. He was in constant pain, quiet groans and breathy gasps punctuating almost every moment he tried to speak. The nurses themselves seemed to ignore both him and her most of the time, coming in daily only twice - to administer drugs and change the sheets and his pajamas - each time both soaked in blood and yellow gunk.

“I.. must look… horrible,” Steve spoke once, his voice pained and barely over a whisper. He had to wear sunglasses all the time now not to be blinded by the sun.

“No, darling,” Peggy replied, trying to hide the tear that fell down her cheek behind a smile. “You’re fine. You’re only burned, it will heal,” she continued as she stroked his hand, pulling it up to kiss his knuckles.

“They say… you shouldn’t… touch me,” he spoke again, a quiet groan of pain escaping him.

“They touch you all the time, Steve,” she replied. “And nothing happens to them. If they can, then I should too. I’m your wife, right?”

“Fair… enough,” he replied. They stayed like that for a moment - Peggy sitting next to him, caressing him while he laid still.

“Do you… still… have that… nausea?” Steve then spoke, out of the blue. Peggy had to bite back a gasp at that - in fact, she had inquired about it a few days earlier in another hospital. Through the chaos of the last few days, she had simply forgotten about it.

Until now.

“I don’t… but there’s something… I need to tell you…” she spoke, a mixture of happiness and anxiety swirling through her, tears now falling freely. 

“I’m pregnant, Steve,” she choked out, pulling his hand towards her belly. “You’re going to be a father. We’re going to have a baby.”

His first response was silence as he processed what she just said to him. Then, she heard him gasp loudly, before letting out a wheezy laugh.

“Really?” he spoke before letting out a hiss, the loudest she heard him speak since she met him again.

“Yes,” she replied, a wide smile pulling at her lips.

“Wow… Do you… have a name… yet…” he choked out, smiling wide himself.

“Steve, it’s too early for that,” she giggled, rubbing his hand against her belly. “We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

“If it’s… a girl… Sarah… if a boy… James…” He managed to speak out before descending into a loud coughing fit. Peggy moved closer, noticing him cough up something looking like black sludge with fragments in it. She moved her hand, clearing the sludge out of his mouth as he kept coughing, his lips and tongue now black, like pieces of rotten meat. She fought the urge to gag as she did, until it stopped, Steve sagging against the bed, wheezing loudly.

“Sorry,” he whispered before letting out a quiet moan.

“Don’t be sorry my love.” She spoke through tears, her voice wobbling. She knew why he would pick those names - Sarah since it was his mother’s name and James for his best friend, killed in Afghanistan a few months before their wedding.

“I… love you,” he whispered, a tear falling down his cheek.

“I love you too, Steve,” she replied, kissing his forehead. “So, so much my darling.”

The next few days only brought more pain and suffering.

Steve’s state was getting worse and worse. Most of his skin and flesh now turned black, with all his hair and teeth falling out. He couldn’t eat anything solid anymore, Peggy being forced to feed him only soup she brought from her temporary home. One time, she raised his arm to clean it in the evening, only to see rotten flesh fall off the bone. It hurt her to see him like this - more dead than alive, even though he was still breathing, his breath shaky and pained as he coughed up more and more black, chunky sludge.

(She would learn later it were parts of his lungs and throat he was coughing up.)

She lost track of time, staying with him as long as she could until she felt tired and went back home to sleep for a while before returning. The nurses paid her no attention for the most time, especially after she confessed she wanted to keep him company so that he wouldn’t be alone. She wasn’t blind - her mind telling her Steve would not get better and that he would die and be left alone to bear his child in this cruel world. Her heart, however, seemed to swell even more the worse he got, her love to him unwavering and as strong as ever. She held on to hope - that one day he would heal, that their dream of a full life would be fulfilled.

It was May 13 when she walked into the hospital, only to find Steve’s bed empty, the bloodstained sheets the only indication he was there. She ran out of the room, only to run into the nurse that warned her about touching him the first time. 

“Excuse me, where…” Peggy started to speak before noticing the nurse’s expression - the subtle mix between pity, kindness and resignation. It spoke more to her than any words could.

“No, no, no…” Peggy choked out, hot tears flooding her eyes as she collapsed on her knees, a sob falling from her lips. She felt the nurse pull her head against her belly, her hand holding her head as she sobbed into her uniform.

_ He’s dead. He died alone. You left him to die alone. _

It was the day later that she could finally see him. His body laid on a slab in the morgue, barely recognizable as human. She managed to obtain a full dress uniform - while she knew the funeral had no chance of being an open casket, she didn’t want him to be buried naked. The clothes barely fit, his body swelling up so much she couldn’t fit his shoes on. She then watched as the soldiers took over - first, they wrapped his body in a plastic bag before placing him in a wooden, simple coffin. Afterwards, they wrapped the box in another sheet of plastic, before moving to the yard of the hospital. She stood there, her body shaking as she watched them lower it into a metal coffin - shining in the spring sun - before welding it shut.

_ Like something dangerous.  _ She thought.

The burial ceremony took place right outside one of the cemeteries in Moscow. She wasn’t alone - in the crowd she spotted a few more familiar faces - relatives of other firefighters and policemen from Pripyat. She stood straight, holding Steve’s shoes as she watched a crane lower his coffin into a big ditch to place it as a last in a row of seven other coffins - metal, just like his, glistening in the sun. The two soldiers then detached the ropes and climbed back out of the ditch, the coffins laid in a neat line. Just then, she heard the sound of and engine, breaking through the wind. It snapped her out of her thoughts as she looked up, noticing the source.

Just as she looked, a cement mixing truck crested the small hill and stopped, before backing up towards the ditch. She held her breath for a moment, slowly realizing what was about to happen. Before she could formulate it, however, the concrete started to flow, flooding down the ditch as it started to fill it. She could only watch, her lips wobbling as the grey, thick sludge filled the ditch, covering the bottom before starting to rise up. As it reached Steve’s coffin, it felt like a floodgate opening - tears falling as Peggy sobbed and cried, realizing the full picture for the first time.

_ He’s dead. He won’t come back. You’re alone now. _

She moved her hand over her belly, squeezing it tight as she watched the concrete now cover the casket, sealing it shut from the world, like a dangerous beast poised to destroy the world.

_ At least I have you.  _ She thought as she rubbed her belly.

It’s nearly 7 months later, back in Moscow, when her waters break.

After the burial, Peggy had been assigned a new flat in Kiev, with a job in the neighborhood library. The time felt like a slow torture - the raw grief and pregnancy making her suffer from days where she wouldn’t even set her foot off the bed. She felt a bit better as time went on - mostly due to meeting new friends and reconnecting with some old ones - but subconsciously she knew the wound from Steve’s death would never fully heal. It was then that she decided to visit his grave, to lay some flowers and tend for it. And as she did, it happened.

The whole process feels like a blur of unconnected happenings - the ride in the ambulance, the excruciating pain, the blinding light in the ward and her cries of pain. The next clear memory are the words of the doctor - “It’s a girl!” - and the nurse handing her the blanket, her (their) daughter inside it.

“Oh, Sarah,” she whispers to her as she cradles her, exhausted but happy. “I wish your dad could see you now.”

It doesn’t last long.

Just a few minutes later, the doctors whisk her away from her, speaking of  _ additional tests _ . They don’t come back until a few hours later, their faces somber.

“Your daughter, she… didn’t make it.” The lead doctor says as Peggy feels her heart snap in two for the second time in the last few months. She doesn’t cry or sob - she goes numb, her body freezing as snippets of what the doctor says flow to her -  _ liver cirrhosis _ ,  _ radiation _ ,  _ 28 Roentgen per hour _ ,  _ astonishing _ .

Afterwards, the nurses wheel her into the room filled with cots and crying babies. Evry cry and sound feels like another stab to her heart as she looks outside the window, her eyes puffed up and her expression blank. She stays there for a few hours before they wheel her back out, into a quiet room on the other side of the hospital.

In the night she lies on the bed, crying until there are no more tears left to spill.

(She gets her back later, after arguing with some bigwig colonel - a wooden box covered in plastic, stamped with the word ASHES. DO NOT OPEN. She watches later as she is buried where Steve lies, shivering in the cold wind.)

It’s a few weeks later she has a dream.

She’s standing in a brightly lit room, dressed in her favourite red dress (she left it in Pripyat and never got it back). It’s then she sees Steve come up to her is his Sunday best suit, holding a baby in his arms.

“Steve?” she asks, her voice shaking while she tries to fight back tears.

“Hi, Peggy,” Steve replies, the baby pulling at his jacket, laughing. “Sarah, look, it’s your mom!”

Peggy lets the tears fall as she moves closer, noticing the baby with her brown eyes and thick locks, but with Steve’s blond instead of her brunette color.

“Steve… you’re dead,” she speaks, her voice thick with pain. “and Sarah too… I… I killed her… I touched you and she...”

“Peggy, no, stop,” Steve replies, pulling her close as she sobs into his clothes. “Shhh, honey, it’s OK. It’s not your fault.”

She doesn’t know how long it lasts before she dares to look up at him, blinking the tears away.

“I miss you.” she whispers. “And I miss her, I’m so sorry, Steve.”

“We miss you too. And I should be the one who’s sorry,” he replies, a sad smile on his face. “But we’ll be waiting.”

“What do you mean?” She speaks as he pulls back a little, Sarah now letting out a little giggle.

“Someday, your time will come as well, just like for me and Sarah,” he speaks, looking down at his bare feet before looking up. “And you’ll join us both here. It’s so beautiful, believe me.”

“Are you in heaven?” she asks. She had never been religious, but it’s the only way she can explain what she’s seeing.

“Sort of. It’s complicated,” he says as he takes a step back. “I have to go now, Peggy. But promise me something.”

“What?” Peggy asks.

“Live your life, Pegs,” he replies, Sarah snuggling up to him. “This will wait for you. But only if you promise me you won’t give up. Please, Pegs.”

“Yes,” she replies, her tone stalwart. “I promise.”

“Good,” he replies, turning around. “I have to go now, Peggy.”

“No, Steve don’t leave, please darling.” She falls on her knees, begging.

“I love you, Peggy. And I’ll be waiting. Remember your promise!” he speaks before suddenly disappearing, Peggy being left alone again.

“STEVE!” she yells as she suddenly wakes up, back in her small flat in Kiev. It’s dark outside, she’s sitting up and breathing hard.

_ Nightmare, s _ he thinks as she lets herself fall back down, looking through the window and blinking away the tears.

And yet, she somehow feels what she just felt wasn’t just a dream. As if to confirm, she suddenly sees a star streak across her window, falling down before disappearing. Her heart beats faster for a moment before she starts to calm down, her head sinking back into the pillow.

_ They’re happy and they’re waiting for me. I can’t give up. S _ he closes her eyes, sleep overwhelming her almost instantly.

It’s the best sleep she had ever had since April 26, 1986.

The day that changed everything.

**Author's Note:**

> [Dispatcher calls I quoted in the text](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rbzUH6M7mVA/).  
> English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes that slipped through the cracks.  
> Comments/kudos/feedback/questions are welcome.  
> [Tumblr](https://hms-rodney-official.tumblr.com/).


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